Research, Dinner, A Bet and Two Kisses
by ALC Punk
Summary: Angelo and Jubilee attempt to set up Henry McCoy and Monet.... At least, Ange wants them happy... ;]


Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, I'm just playin'.  
  
Continuity notes: It's been God's know how long since I read the comics. So I went ahead and set this back when I knew them. At least, I tried to. This is set between issues 4 and 5 of Generation X. Yes, that far back. And, sorry for sounding arrogant, but Monet is NOT a set of fricking twins. Bite me, fanboys.  
  
Dedication: To Elidycyhara who was incredibly patient. I hope this is vaguely what you wanted, *I* didn't intend for it to end that way. And I certainly didn't think it would be this long. Happy Birthday. :)  
  
erm, pg13 for bad words. Oh, and Jubilee is so NOT 13.  
  
Research, Dinner, a Bet and Two Kisses  
by Ana Lyssie Cotton  
  
The Massachusets Academy housed rather an eclectic group of people. The only things they really had in common were being mutants, and teenagers. Which didn't wash for their 'teachers' Ms. Emma Frost and Sean Cassidy, since the two of them were far from being teenaged. And they weren't even particularly alike in ideals. Ms. Frost tended to a business-like view of things, and Sean tended to want to be everyone's friend.  
  
And while those two are quite interesting in their own rights, it's really not them we're concentrating on. Instead, let's endeavor to take a closer look at one or two of the students, and a visiting professor.  
  
Dr. Henry McCoy is well known for his verbosity and tenacity when pursuing a line of inquiry. He is also well known for his luxurious and fluffy blue fur, as well as his sunny nature. Even when all the odds are against the dear doctor, he still has a quip or two to deliver.  
  
Currently, the man known as the Beast in some circles, is visiting the Mass Academy. He was invited there by Emma so that he might pick the brain of one Monet St. Croix, who appeared to know something about the Legacy virus. Since that is McCoy's current field of study, he flew up to discuss the work in progress with the young woman.  
  
Meanwhile, one Angelo Espinosa sat boredly in his room, listening to his roommate happily chatter about. Stuff. It was enough to make any sane man nuts. It was enough to drive Angelo down to the lab to talk with McCoy....  
  
--  
  
"So, anyway, I think--" Everett Thomas paused as his roommate stalked towards the door, "Angelo?"  
  
"I have an appointment with Dr. McCoy." Flashing a rather harried grin at Ev, Angelo edged out the door, "We can continue this discussion later, okay?"  
  
Angelo finished shutting the door and was gone before Ev could answer. On his way down through the school, he tried to decide if he felt guilty about running out on his roommate. And decided he didn't.  
  
Dr. McCoy was sure to at least remember, if not be pleased at his interrupting research. Valuable research time being lost to talk to one Angelo Espinosa would probably set him back. Angelo snorted as he sauntered around another corner. Not that anyone wouldn't want a break after dealing with Monet for ten minutes.  
  
Madamoiselle St. Croix could be terribly precise and annoying, unless she thought you were worth her time. And then she'd be even more precise and annoying. Remembering that McCoy had loved playing with words, Angelo decided that the two would be just about ready to kill each other when he walked in.  
  
"Indubitably, my dear."  
  
"Yes, I thought so, too."  
  
Angelo blinked. There weren't any screams coming from the med lab. There was just what appeared to be normal conversation. He carefully looked around the open doorway to spot the two looking over schematics on the monitor. Monet was seated in the chair, with McCoy hovering delicately over her shoulder.  
  
"And there." She pointed.  
  
"Eureka, my dear."  
  
"This bath is too hot?" She chuckled up at him and typed a sequence in. "But will it work with this strain, I think that is the pressing problem."  
  
"Erm. Hello?"  
  
"Young Angelo, and how art thee, my lad?" Henry bounded over to him and smiled toothily.  
  
"I'm fine, thanks. Are you two okay?"  
  
"Never better, Espinosa." Monet raised an eyebrow haughtily at him, "Is there a reason for your intrudance?"  
  
"I just thought the Beast might like a break from you, chica."   
  
"Ah, Angelo, what a nice thought, but I must admit to being intrigued by Ms. St. Croix." Beast smiled toothily at Angelo and turned to Monet, "Still, I believe a break to be in order?"  
  
They adjourned for lunch, the kitchen being their preferred lunching spot. Henry proved quite capable of making peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches, while Monet concocted a nice fruit and veggie tray. With dip. Angelo sort of sat to the side and watched, amazed at the domesticity of his teammate.  
  
Monet put the knife she'd used into the dishwasher and paused to make sure the rest of the used utensils had room to be placed there. After all, it was more efficient if dishes were put in the dishwasher as they were used. There was room for what they were eating with and then she'd start the new load, she decided. Glancing surreptitiously at Angelo, she grabbed a scoopful of dishwashing powder and dumped it in the small depression.  
  
She wasn't sure she wanted her teammates to find out she was capable of doing something so mundane as dishes. But she was good at figuring out the schedules for it, and making sure it got done. A mild compulsion to rinse and put their dishes in was all that had been required so that there were always clean dishes.  
  
With a final check, she moved over to the table and sat down. Peanut butter and jelly should have been below her tastes, she reflected, and yet, it wasn't. After all, Dr. McCoy--and didn't he have a fascinating mind?--liked it. She decided to give it a try. But first, some vegetables.  
  
A few minutes later, she found herself engaged in an in-depth conversation on the usage of various words. Espinosa's eyes were sort of glazed over as he watched the two of them chatter on.  
  
--  
  
Time flew by and Henry McCoy found himself completely charmed by young Monet. She was so brilliant and intelligent. It was like having a conversation with some of his colleagues in the field--Moira perhaps. Except she was so young, and so had a different view of the things. Skewed them an odd way that he hadn't noticed before.  
  
A day after Angelo's wander into their domain, Hank found himself absorbed in reading another chart over Monet's shoulder when he realised that she smelled rather nice. Like cloves and spice and, well, her. Quickly blanking his mind and shoving that thought into the deepest recesses, he looked at the chart and made a comment. Without missing a beat.  
  
Henry sat in the lab later that evening, trying to understand why he'd become aware of Monet's scent. He knew her step now, too. It was very precise and measured, and in control. Almost military, yet it had a flare.   
  
If he could have blushed, Hank McCoy would have. Musing on the step of a girl half his age, whom he had nothing in common with. Except a brilliant mind. And intelligence. And she smelled so nice in the morning when she brought his first cup of coffee.  
  
Angelo cornered him the next day to have a chat about old times. Not that there were many, but the kid had taken a liking to Hank, and wanted to chat with someone who didn't consider him stupid. The young man found Henry to be very distracted and seemingly buried in work. Until he got a look at the screen McCoy was working on.  
  
"Well, well, well, hombre, I see you've decided to fall for the ice princess."  
  
"Uh, no, no, just doing a little research on the young woman's background, in hopes that we can find a way to break her autistic comas." Hank fudged, quickly typing in a sequence to clear the screen.  
  
Angelo chuckled, "Ay, I can see that. C'mon, 'Enry, you can trust me."  
  
"I'm afraid I can't satisfy your curiosity, Angelo." Henry stood and wandered over to a window, "Besides," he muttered, "What would she see in me? I'm old enough to be her father and covered in blue fur."  
  
"I hear the ladies like cuddling, McCoy. You should get along fine. And, age? Ah, who cares about age these days?" With a shrug, Angelo stepped up beside Henry and peered out into the evening air. "But, if you like, I'll go with you on the first date. Make it seem like a friendly outing."  
  
Henry looked sideways at the young man, "That's... kind of you," he replied dryly, "But I think I can ask a woman on a date without needing a chaperone to tag along."  
  
"So, you'll ask her, then?"  
  
McCoy gaped like a fish for a moment, then his mouth snapped close. "No." He turned away from the window and stalked back to his desk.  
  
"Aw, why not, man?"  
  
"I've already said. Now, if you'll pardon me, I have a great deal of work to accomplish."  
  
Angelos shook his head and smirked slightly as he left the room. So, McCoy had a thing for Monet? Well. He'd put money that Monet liked him. The smirk deepened. Time to recruit a little help.  
  
--  
  
"Y'want me ta what?" Jubilee snapped her gum irritatingly and stared at Angelo. She was the team's resident 'been on another team and is blase' member. Having been an X-Man, and traveled with Wolverine, she felt it her duty to announce how boring being in Gen X was. Even though she'd voluntarily gone to join them.  
  
"It's just somethin' I think needs doing." Angelo shrugged, "If you don't want to, you don't have to..."  
  
"You want me to go on a date with you?"  
  
"Not a date-date, just out with me, while I try to hook up ol' Hank with someone."  
  
"With who?" She stared at him suspiciously, "You're not going to hook him up with--ew! You bastard, you're gonna hook him up with Monet-I'm too sexy for this school-St. Croix, aren't you?"  
  
"That was the plan, sort of..."  
  
"Well, I won't do it, bub. That little piece of--"  
  
A pleading look entered Angelo's eyes as he interrupted her, "Please, Jubes? For Hank?"  
  
"For Hank? He can do WAY better than her."  
  
"I think he's got a crush on her. This would be your chance to show them they wouldn't work out."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Uhuh. And you want them together."  
  
"Well, I'm sure we can come to some sort of mutual agreement. Let them try it, but with us there to egg them on."  
  
"Try to keep them apart." Jubilee added, "And, egg on the face. That's a thought."  
  
"No food fights."  
  
"Only if I can make nasty comments about what she's wearing."  
  
Angelo's eyebrows shot up, "Where did you think we were going, chica?"  
  
"Well, if it's a date, it has to be a nice restaurant. Right? So, McDonald's is out. How about the Pasta House?"  
  
"I'd need to wear a suit."  
  
"That's kind of the point, dipshit."  
  
"You'd have to wear a dress."  
  
Jubilee blanched, then recovered quickly, "Well, all in the interests of science and foiling Monet, dude."  
  
"I don't intend to foil her. In fact," A gleam entered his eyes, "I propose a bet."  
  
"Oh? Dude, tell."  
  
"I bet you, that the I can get the two of them together before he leaves."  
  
"I'll take that bet. And, when you lose, what do I get?"  
  
"Whatever you want. And if I win?"  
  
"Um. Same thing, I guess." Jubilee snorted, "Within reason, of course."  
  
"Then we're agreed. A double-date/group outing tomorrow night with Monet and Hank. And a bet. To win."  
  
They shook hands and then parted ways, each to cajole their respective targets into the dinner.  
  
--  
  
"You say this will assist you in your pursuit of Ms. Lee?"  
  
Angelo shifted uncomfortably and tried to nod calmly, "Yes sir. I've been wanting to take her out for months. I think, with you there, she might not think of it as a date. Sort of..."  
  
"Well, then, in the interests of furthering romantic entanglements, I accept your generous offer of dinner tonight."  
  
"Great." Relief washed over Angelo, "And, you'll remember to wear a suit, sir?"  
  
"I'll even remember the image-inducer," With a chuckle, Hank turned back to his monitor, "Now, run along lad and let me finish. Give me a call when it's an hour before we should leave."  
  
"Right sir. Thanks!" Angelo left the room, feeling better. One down, one to go. And, hopefully, Jubes would be handling Monet nicely, so she didn't get a clue as to why they were having this dinner...  
  
--  
  
"You want me to go with you so Skin will not feel it's a date." Monet said. She sounded bored.  
  
Jubilee glared at her, "No! I want you to go--fine. Believe what you want, just be ready to go by six. The reservation's at seven."  
  
"As if I'd miss an opportunity to watch you fumble your way through a romantic dinner." Monet smirked, "I'll be there."  
  
"With bells on?"  
  
"I don't think this dinner requires bells."  
  
"Whatever." Jubilee swept from the room. Her lips immediately molded themselves into a smirk. So, Monet thought she was going to lose at the relationship game? Fooey on her.  
  
--  
  
Jubilee fidgeted while she waited for the others. Her dress was something she'd swiped from Paige's surprisingly nice closet. Apparently, the hayseed's mother had thought she'd need nice clothes. Couldn't tell that from all the jeans and t-shirts the girl wore. But the dresses in the back were nice.   
  
The dress was a dark blue, and low-cut, and had tiny spaghetti straps. Jubilee wasn't sure if she looked like a kid playing dress-up or not. But she was hoping it was more a nice 'sophisticated' look.  
  
Monet appeared a moment later, clad serenely in a lovely red and black dress that flowed down her curves and made her seem even taller and older than she was. Jubilee saw red for a moment, then decided to let the dress go. For now.  
  
"Nice look, Jubilation. Sort of the 'Mother's wardrobe' thing. It's really you."  
  
"Bite me."  
  
There was no time for more hostilities, as both men appeared then. Angelo was nicely turned out in a dark suit with a black shirt and grey tie. McCoy was the quintessential man in a tux, black jacket, white shirt, black pants, blue bow-tie and black shiny shoes. His hair was dark and combed back. The image inducer did a good job.  
  
"My lady?" Angelo tucked Jubilee's arm through his own and stepped out the door to where the van was pulled up. "Our carraige awaits."  
  
Jubilee grumbled, but let him help her into the van. As he was assisting Hank into his seat, Monet leaned forward and hissed at her, "You said it was just the three of us!"  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Yes, you--" Monet stopped hissing as Hank settled in his seat next to her. She smiled a bit fakely and aimed a glare at Jubilee.  
  
The drive into town was quick, as Angelo didn't want to risk any of his passengers deciding to suddenly leave. Hank had almost bolted on seeing Monet in the foyer. He didn't need either of them diving out the window.  
  
And knowing Monet, if she scented a rat, she would leave.   
  
The Pasta House was fairly ritzy, by the kids' standards. They even took reservations. The head waiter gave them an austere look as they approached, and warmed only slightly when they said they were the Frost party. But he did say their table would be ready soon.   
  
Five minutes later, they were being escorted to a quiet booth in the back. A bit of a scuffle then ensued as the waiter tried to seat them and Angelo upset his arrangement by placing Hank next to Monet and Jubilee across from Hank. Angelo was taking no chances that Jubes would play foul with something. Besides, this way he could monopolise her and force the other two to chat.  
  
Jubilee gave him a dark look, but settled down to read the menu. A quick perusal confirmed that they would be spending a lot of Frost's cash. Jubilee grinned and ordered an iced tea, the others followed suit.  
  
Pondering her tablemates, she glowered at Angelo one more time, then smiled across at Henry. "So, Beast, how ya doin'?"  
  
"I appear to be doing well, Jubilation. And you?"  
  
"Ah, I'm fine." Jubilee jumped as Angelo elbowed her. "Anyway, y'know, like, talk to M or something."  
  
"Jubilee!" Angelo hissed in her ear.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Stop it."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Relax, they'll do fine. Besides, Monet thinks we're a couple."  
  
He blinked at her in surprise. "She does?"  
  
"Yeah. Think we could, y'know, act like one? She seems to think we'd, like, be bad as a couple, or something."  
  
Angelo studied his partner in crime oddly, then shrugged. She was a mallrat. She was bound to be wierd, "Yeah, sure, whatever."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Across from the two whisperers, Monet and Hank were conducting a conversation on philosophy, specifically Nietzche and Hegel and how they had differed in their views. It was rather successful conversation, as it didn't require them to have to actually look at each other. They could just happily peruse the menus and chatter. Hank was dreading the moment the waiter came around again. Once he took their orders, he would have to look at her.  
  
Wouldn't he? Not that he didn't want to. She looked absolutely stunning in the dress she was wearing. And he was surprised to find his mind straying to what was under the dress. He blushed.  
  
Monet, for her part, was feeling increasingly worried that Jubilee had set her up. After all, Dr. McCoy had known she would be there, right? And, he didn't look at her any differently. Surprised at how flustered she felt, she nearly stuttered when the waiter took her order.  
  
A niggling thought passed through her brain as the man walked away, bearing her menu. Hank without his fur was cute, but... he wasn't himself. She found herself wishing he didn't have to use the image inducer.  
  
Still, she suceeded in making small talk as they discussed Shakespeare's impact on modern philosophy. And when the food arrived, she was quite content to continue the discussion. Occasionally, their arms would brush, and Monet would feel the fur under the inducer and shiver slightly.  
  
Jubilee jumped up a few minutes later. "Back in a moment. Gotta powder my nose."  
  
Monet raised an eyebrow, and shrugged. Apparently, Jubilee and Angelo were actually doing fairly well as a couple. Since she had such a well-accomplished dinner companion, she really couldn't begrudge the girl that. And the girl slid back into her seat a little while later.  
  
With careful precision, Jubilee watched Monet. She was enjoying herself, quite obviously. And McCoy seemed to be having a good time to. It was almost with a bit of sorrow that she readied the ice cube in her hand. Monet turned just so, and Jubilee tossed the small projectile.  
  
It arced gracefully through the air, almost unnoticeable. Except that Angelo saw it, and was already grabbing Jubilee's arm and glaring ferociously as it slipped neatly down the front of Monet's dress.  
  
The Algerian girl reared back in shock as the cold lump settled in a comfy and unmentionable place. "Jubilation Lee!"  
  
"Oops. Bye!" Jubilee twisted out of Angelo's graps faster than he could blink and was gone, dashing and twisting between tables.   
  
Wrath rolled off Monet as she stood and began stalking after the Californian. "Jubilation!"  
  
Angelo bent over the table and methodically began banging his head against it. He stopped as he realised that there were chuckles coming from the man sitting across from him. Warily, he looked at Henry.  
  
"I must say, Angelo, a most... interesting evening." Henry chuckled more and waved to the waiter who was fast approaching. "I'd suggest you pay the man and we leave, eh?"  
  
"The ladies, they--"  
  
"Will be waiting by the van, I wager, unless Monet decides to dunk Jubilee in the river."  
  
"Madre de dios..."  
  
"No, I don't think it would be a good idea--ah, sir! The bill, please."  
  
A few minutes later, the two men exited the Pasta House and headed for the van. McCoy was right, both young women stood by the van. There were, oddly enough, no bruises or scratches on either of them. Angelo looked at Jubilee and she shrugged back, a grin on her face.   
  
He groaned and ushered them all into the van. The drive back to the Academy was relatively silent.  
  
--  
  
A week passed, and Angelo and Emma Frost had an argument about his creative use of school funds. Monet was given a lecture on fighting in public. Jubilee escaped any censure, save whatever Monet had done to her. Henry McCoy found himself a bit wistful as he prepared to leave. He'd enjoyed his time at the Academy. If he was honest with himself, he'd admit the main reason for that was Monet. She was a vibrant, incredible woman.  
  
He sighed as he packed the last of his belongings and prepared to carry them out to the waiting car. Frost had provided a limo service to the airport, and a nice first class seat for his pains.   
  
As he stepped towards the door, there came a sudden knocking. "Yes?"  
  
Monet peered around the doorjam and gave him a half-smile. "You're leaving."  
  
"Research to go back to. The labs at the Mansion, they have more of what I need. Not that you haven't been invaluable, but..." He paused and sighed, "I have to go back."  
  
She nodded slowly, "Yes."  
  
"Thank you for your help," He held out a hand to her, keeping a formal smile on his face.  
  
"You're welcome." She tilted her head as she gently shook his hand. "And, thank you, for the many days of fascinating conversation."  
  
"Ah, well, you're welcome." He moved closer to her, intrigued once again by the scent of her. "And, the dinner, did I mention that you looked lovely that night?"  
  
They both blushed. "As did you. Although, I wish you hadn't had to use the image inducer." Monet stepped closer to him, breathing in the scent of him. Sort of spicey and furry, and masculine.   
  
"You do?" He whispered, staring down at her.  
  
"Yes." She replied, stretching up to kiss him gently.  
  
They both startled at the light touch and started to back away. But then Monet firmed her grasp on his hand and reached up to twine a hand in his hair. And they kissed again, gently, almost afraid of what might happen.  
  
"I think," Monet murmured, "That we should continue our discussions. Via email, if possible. Besides, I can assist you when something difficult occurs."  
  
"Yes, you can." He smiled down at her and picked up his case. "As long as you don't mind getting calls from an old man at three in the morning."  
  
She chuckled. "I don't. And you're not old."  
  
"I have the years to be your paternal unit, my dear."  
  
"Well, you don't look it." Her eyebrow went up, and she suddenly looked terribly aristocratic. "Besides, I wouldn't want to date my father."  
  
The laughter echoed down the corridor, to a small room where two people were crouched watching the proceedings. "Dude, they did it!"  
  
"So they did, chica." Angelo shook his head and sighed, "I won."  
  
"Yeah." Jubilee grumbled at him, "You did, even if I changed my mind about it."  
  
"Howso?"  
  
"Well, they're so cute together." She shrugged and turned to leave, "Anyway, I'll be going now."  
  
"Ah-ah. Not so fast, chica. Pay up."  
  
She turned and looked at him, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"  
  
He smirked, "One kiss."  
  
"You're insane! I'm not going to kiss you! I mean, EW! Guy cooties!"  
  
"Then I demand a forfeit."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"You do all of my kitchen and outside chores for the next two months."  
  
Jubilee blinked, and then seemed to rapidly think about the prospect of doing double duty on chores for two months. "How big a kiss?" She asked suspiciously.  
  
"A small one. A mere brushing of lips." He snorted sardonically, "You'll hardly know I was there."  
  
"Ugh." Caught between a rock and a hard place, she surrendered, "Fine. But no hands or groping, dude."  
  
"I wouldn't dream of it." He stepped closer to her. Then stopped and snickered, at her closed eyes and screwed up face, "It's not going to be that bad."  
  
"It isn't? Could have fooled me," She muttered, opening her eyes and glaring at him. "Well, get on with it."  
  
"As my lady wishes." Bending down he caught her lips with his own in a very gentle kiss. Chuckling, he backed away and straightened. She was frozen in place, eyes open and staring at him.  
  
"That wasn't a kiss."  
  
"Are you sure? If you want to demonstrate what a kiss really is..."  
  
Her eyes widened and she blinked, "Bastard."  
  
"I have it on good authority that my mother was married, chica."  
  
"Did your mother teach you to kiss?"  
  
"No, but I doubt your father taught you." He rejoined, smirking.  
  
"Angelo Espinosa, get over here and kiss me properly." She blinked and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God. Did I just..."  
  
"Yes, you did." He caught her in his arms and leered half-heartedly. She grumbled and snuggled into his chest. "Silly girl, all you had to do was ask." He ran a finger along her nose.  
  
"I did." She nipped the finger as it slipped along her lips.  
  
With another smirk, he carefully kissed her.  
  
Silence reigned for a time, occasionally punctured by mumbled insults.  
  
A few moments, or hours, later, the door crashed inwards and Monet St. Croix took one look at them and began laughing.  
  
"Jubilation?"  
  
"Mrph! Monet!" Jubilee scrambled out of Angelo's lap and stared at the other girl, "Um..."  
  
"Jubilation, I require your assistance."  
  
"Right. Um, I'll, uh, see you later, Ange." With a blush and a glance at him, she skittered from the room, heading for her own.  
  
Monet looked at Angelo and smiled. "Thank you."  
  
He bowed to her, lips twitching, "No, chica, thank you."  
  
--  
  
-=finis=- 


End file.
